The Cuckoo's Home

When Agong woke up, he knew that he hadn’t just taken an afternoon nap. First of all, he couldn’t remember when and where he’d fallen asleep. As his eyes became a little more focused, he saw Koliong’s hairy scrotum peeping from between his boxers and realised with a shock that he was lying under the dining table.
How long had it been? What had happened?
He tried to retrace his memories but everything seemed to lead directly to one thought, which started to throb in his head again like a migraine. Nobody would believe it, he couldn’t himself, and so the voices of his conscience argued away inside him: Yes, I did it! No, I couldn’t have! Yes, I did! No, I didn’t! Every twist and turn of his thoughts seemed to be blowing his brain up like a balloon until all he wanted was to find a pin to pop it.
Only a year ago he’d become a proud grandfather. It was a boy, which meant that he’d helped the Lin family not once, or twice, but three times! The reason Agong had agreed to give up his surname like a woman was not because he was particularly in love with Ama, neither was it because he really wanted to help a family avert extinction, it was simply an attempt to escape poverty. He felt that honour was a small price to pay for daily meals with pork and guaranteed slumber under a dry roof. Although he had married up, his decision had brought his father inexplicable shame and grief. ‘It’s an honourable thing to give your son away like this,’ some would say sarcastically to the old man, forcing him to swallow his pride like a dry pebble. If he felt up to it he would respond, ‘The Lins are an old family, so it’s only natural that they want a son to inherit their wealth.’
If Agong’s father found it hard living with subtle sarcasm, life in the Lin household wasn’t altogether easy for Agong. Even on the wedding day, his wife’s relatives couldn’t stop themselves from pressurizing him and cracking bad jokes. ‘Let’s have a boy first,’ they toasted him and his bride as if it was a matter of choice. ‘Don’t go shooting blanks,’ some of the more provocative and drunken ones said, suggesting that he would be the one to blame if they were childless. Luckily, Koliong, who turned out to be the only child and a boy, arrived soon after the marriage to somehow put everyone’s mind at rest. And now with the new arrival Agong’s mind was at rest regarding yet another generation.
Even though Ama drove him like a slave to make sure that he earned his bed and board, Agong had no regrets because of Koliong. As Agong laid on his back and looked up at his son’s legs, familiar emotions swished around in his heart. No matter how people laughed at those mismatched legs, one was visibly longer and hairier than the other, and no matter how they thought that he was slow and stupid, Agong knew that the aching protectiveness he felt for his son was the purest form of self-love. Everything that he had wanted for himself, he wanted even more for his son. He had never imagined that loving a child of his own would be like loving himself, and even more wonderful than that was the fact that everyday this split part of himself not only reciprocated all that he gave it but returned even more. Koliong was devoted to his father and did everything he said without asking questions or thinking twice because he believed that there was no one else on earth who would want what was best for him more than this man. Many times Agong had wondered if he was worthy of such faith, but now he knew with great certainty that he was not. Like everyone else, but in an even more unforgiveable manner, he had abused his son’s trust and good-nature. The world had little reason not to let Koliong down but how could he, with every reason not to, still let him down?
A lot of things started to change when Ama announced two years ago that she had ordered a bride from Vietnam for Koliong. She’d felt that he wasn’t trying hard enough to find a wife on his own and so had taken the liberty of buying him one. Nobody had been consulted – there was no need as she was in every respect the head of the family, even in name – and nobody was going to be able to do anything about it because the bride was already in the post. As a rule, and because he was an obedient husband and peace-loving man, Agong avoided confrontations with his wife even though that did not stop her from hunting his ego down and crushing it like a cockroach. Every so often Koliong shielded Agong from Ama’s wrath, but most of the time it was Agong who had to drag Koliong away from Ama’s rage; Ama had very little patience for the gentle and none whatsoever for the stupid. So, when Koliong heard that he was going to be married and burst into tears, she took a broom stick to him like he was six instead of thirty-six.
‘I don’t want to marry a woman,’ he cried trying to dodge his mother’s blows and running around the living room where glass-encased tablets of the gods and Lin ancestors stood watching on tall wooden tables.
‘What? Then do you want to marry a ghost?’ Ama shouted a little inappropriately in the presence of her ancestors. Although it sounded like she was asking him if a ghost was all he had in mind, actually what she was insinuating was that even a ghost would think twice about marrying him. In other words, you would be so lucky to have a ghost stoop so low!
Koliong made the mistake of mentioning that he’d never even thought about women. This confession drove Ama to the edge of insanity: had she gone to the trouble of marrying a man in order to have a son who wasn’t even going to try and give her a grandson? Clearly nine months in her womb hadn’t been enough to feed some sense into him – he was becoming as useless as her husband, not a true product of the Lin family even though he carried the name – now, all there was left to do was to try and beat some into him.
‘Enough,’ Agong shouted a little hysterically. He had never raised his voice in such a way, but it was too much to watch another grown-up man being beaten by a woman and having his dignity swept away even before he was married. Ama was fat, but she was tall and had the strength of a man. Being the oldest daughter in her family, she had always thought and worked like a man, even though she blatantly despised them and thought they were good-for-nothings. Ama swerved round to her husband and was on the verge of beating some good sense into him too when Lala made her appearance.
The family wasn’t prepared for Lala, but even if they had been they would’ve still been surprised one way or another. Ama immediately complained that Lala looked much darker than she had remembered; she walked over and inspected her thin body up and down like a roll of cloth. The even darker woman, who was delivering the bride, smiled embarrassedly and remained silent. Agong watched his wife and thought he could hear invisible beads clicking away in her brain. How much money did I pay, what is the value of this woman standing in front of me, how can I get her to make my money back? He knew without any doubt that she was doing such sums in her head. People liked to talk about Lin inheritance, what they didn’t know was that there wasn’t much of it; most of the wealth accumulating in the family was the result of Ama’s acute business sense. Lin tai-tai, or Ama to her grandson, had a secret formula for growing lots of baby money from old money.
Lala gave Agong the biggest surprise of all. As soon as he saw her, he was immediately transported back to the old country path that led to his school. In all the seasons of the year, on every single morning, he would pass a girl squatting by the river helping her mother with the laundry. They were clearly poorer than he was because their clothes were made of white flour sacks with the weight and batch number still visible, even though they had turned the sacks inside out. Every day, as he walked past them, he would wonder why they were so happy when they had so little. Every day, life mocked them by making them wash clothes that they were never going to wear. He never actually stopped to look at them, but eventually his curiosity got the best of him and for six school years he stole glances at the girl without her knowing. He noticed that like himself she had darker skin than most people, that the winter river gave her crimson hands, that her ponytail liked to float in the water next to her; he couldn’t stop collecting her piece by piece in his mind and, without intending to, he fell in love. He obsessed over different parts of her and as each piece fell into place he started to feel ashamed of the beauty that he saw. Maybe he loved her, but he would never admit it and never marry her because it would kill him. He’d decided from the very start that he would do anything for a better life: going to school was one of them, marrying someone poor was not. That was long before he met Ama, long before he learnt that having your self-esteem pounded into dust just so that you could eat a good meal might not be worth it after all. Love, maybe, was more precious than he’d thought? Seeing Lala so late in his life, Agong had a strong feeling that something significant from the past had been restored to him.
Lala spoke some Mandarin but she couldn’t really communicate with Ama, who could understand but had decided long ago that she would never learn to speak it. Despite having skin as thick as a buffalo, she wasn’t going to give people the chance to laugh at her Taiwanese accent, and if they called her uneducated for not knowing other people’s language then so be it, after all, she had a will that was built from concrete too. From the very start, Agong took great pains to translate and explain things to Lala in order to get her on Ama’s good side. What immediately endeared her to him was her facial resemblance to Koliong; they had what people called the ‘husband-wife face’ that was a good sign of compatibility between couples. He knew that things wouldn’t be easy for Lala because as soon as she stepped over the Lin threshold she’d become the daughter, the wife, the servant, the cook, the gardener and everything else that Ama commanded her to be. Fortunately, even though she had the youthful looks and obeisance of a seventeen year old, her experience and knack for working matched that of a much older woman. In no time at all, she had all her chores regimented and was pregnant.
‘What’s happening?’ Koliong groaned, not bothering to lift his drowsy face off the chopsticks that he’d fallen asleep on. Agong had pushed himself off the ground and was trying to stand up. If he remembered correctly they had all sat down to have lunch together, but the dishes on the table were still half-eaten and Lala was nowhere in sight.
Ama had died four months ago and Lala had quietly and very firmly stepped into her shoes. She was more than capable and went about the job like a general commanding her soldiers. Granted, the army wasn’t hers and revolted sometimes, but she crushed dissidence as quickly as she delegated duties. The two men were left as powerless as they had always been and soon it felt as if nothing had changed. Except, Lala had a soft spot for Agong. ‘Pa, rest. You watch Yun. Let Koliong deliver the goods today.’ So, Koliong would quietly load the van and drive off while Agong pretended to fuss over his sleeping grandchild. ‘Pa, money’s counted. Check, if you want.’ This comfortable routine of Pa don’ts and Koliong dos, worked perfectly well until yesterday. After Koliong had been sent on his way, Lala said, ‘Pa, come over here.’
It had been a long, long time since he’d touched anybody. Ever since Ama grew fat and lost interest in sex, he’d all but forgotten about the pleasures of the flesh. Everything happened so quickly and so naturally, he didn’t even have time to think about the consequences. How could he have said no? Here was a woman young enough to be his daughter, who reminded him of someone he thought he’d lost forever, offering herself to him completely. Could he have refused even if he had been mindful of his son? No. Not only would he not have refused, but given another chance he wouldn’t even hesitate. I am a disgusting old man, he thought to himself, it was too good to be true and that is why she has gone. She is ashamed when I should be the one that is ashamed, how can I do this to my own son and look him in the eye every day?
When Lala did not return that evening or the next day, Agong’s anxiety and guilt reached such unbearable proportions he thought they would blow him up. There was no one he could talk to apart from his son, who was the most pitiful victim in this crime and would be hurt more than anyone else if he knew the truth. Would Lala be kind enough to keep this a secret, and if she did, would he have the strength to carry his share of the burden? When Koliong returned from his long day of deliveries, he would prepare dinner like a dutiful son. One evening Agong followed him into the kitchen and sat down on a dining bench. ‘It’s likely that Lala might not come back,’ Agong spoke as calmly as if he was ordering dumplings for dinner.
‘That’s got nothing to do with me,’ Koliong scratched his head.
‘Don’t you care? She’s your wife and she has your son,’ Agong couldn’t hide his surprise at his son’s disinterest. Admittedly, he was a little slow, but that didn’t mean he was heartless too. ‘Don’t you have any...feelings...for her?’ He couldn’t bring himself to use the word love, after all it was a complicated word and not always relevant to marriage.
Koliong put down a steaming bowl of instant noodles in front of his father. ‘Pa, to be honest, I never liked her. She makes me do things. “It’s for Ma” or “It’s for Pa,” she says all the time just to make me do it. I really don’t like her, I don’t even like Yun. Who knows where she got him from? I hope she never comes back.’
Agong felt both relief and confusion creeping into him at the same time. Despite having a son of his own, Koliong really was quite clueless about sex. And, what about Lala, wasn’t she a good daughter-in-law to be so thoughtful toward her elders? So, if they didn’t love each other and didn’t have much sex, why did she have to run away after what happened? Would she go back to Vietnam? Suddenly, Agong’s thoughts turned to money and he jumped up and ran into his wife’s bedroom. He threw the bamboo mat off her bed and clawed wildly at the wooden planks until he’d made a parting wide enough for the light to shine in. Wads of money in neat stacks, the whole Lin inheritance, sat looking up at him undisturbed. Now, he felt even more confused.
For the first few months, Agong tried to find his daughter-in-law and grandson. He went back to the agency that Ama claimed she’d ordered the bride from to get more information on her, but they could not tell him anything because there were no papers for Lala from Vietnam. The only person who really knew about the transaction in any detail was Ama, but her bones were now only useful as drum sticks. Koliong went about his daily jobs seemingly oblivious of his son’s absence. Since Agong knew how his son felt about Lala, and he himself was afraid of letting slip how he felt for her and how she’d drugged them and ran away, he tried to be discreet in his investigations. On the surface, people were always polite to Agong, asking him if he’d eaten dinner and making small chitchat. However, from behind his back a rumour was spreading like fire on spilt paraffin. It was said that Koliong was Ama’s son with an aboriginal man and Lala was his daughter with another woman. If this was true, then it would explain why there weren’t any records of a Vietnamese bride, but how had he been kept in the dark all these years?
One night, as they were pulling down the metal shutters to the front door, a shadow emerged from the darkness making Agong jump. Lala stood in the doorway looking much older than he’d remembered her: dark rings and deep wrinkles surrounded her eyes, her cheeks were gaunt and her saggy chin belied the youthfulness of her slender body. In one arm she carried a sleeping baby and in her other hand she led a dirty toddler. ‘Say dad and granddad,’ she ordered dragging the boy forward. He glared at the two men before running back into the shadows. Even though she smiled at her son’s reaction the affection on her face looked strained, and without looking up she said sheepishly, ‘Please take us back.’ Agong’s heart wept with joy and fear. He wanted to lead Lala in by the hand, yet he was afraid of what he would be welcoming. He tried to put on a stern face, but before he could say anything Lala had called the boy in.
‘Where are you from? Why have come back?’ Agong stopped her as if he wasn’t going to let her in without getting some answers first.
‘I’m from Fu-hsing. My father belongs to a line of Atayal chiefs, he asked Ama to take me in when I got pregnant. It was her idea that I pretend to be a Vietnamese bride. Yun isn’t Koliong’s son. But, honestly, this one’s yours,’ she said quickly uncovering the baby’s face. The hankerchief hadn’t protected it very well from the mosquitoes because there were two vicious bites on his snowy forehead. ‘After what happened, I had to go away,’ she continued, ‘but now I know that it was a big mistake. Now I know you’re a good man and you’ll take as good care of us as you have of Koliong. We’ve come home.’
Agong slowly held up his hand like a traffic warden. If Koliong really wasn’t his son, and Yun wasn’t even Koliong’s son, what was Lala to the Lin family? And, how would he ever know if she was really bringing his baby home?